


Baby's Day Out

by monsterfucker



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: ABDL, Age Play, Baby Boy Hux, Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Comeplay, Daddy Dom Kylo Ren, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Established Relationship, M/M, Public Scene, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-29 15:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16746553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterfucker/pseuds/monsterfucker
Summary: The only way Ben can stand the Crimson Dawn Gala is by making a game of it with his baby, dress him up pretty in a suit and tie and something fun underneath.





	Baby's Day Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trashflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashflower/gifts).



> Major thanks to Coq for the prompt, "Really filthy ageplay, watersports, diapers, wetting, Daddy kink." 
> 
> Both characters are their canon ages. They're just roleplaying in this, and they're in a consensual, loving, well-negotiated relationship. That said, if you don't like the thought of Hux wetting a diaper, you probs shouldn't read this.

Ben passes Armie another glass of wine, which Armie takes with an apprehensive look. The Crimson Dawn Gala is bustling with snake-eyed salespeople. The only way Ben can stand it is by making a game of it with his baby, dress him up pretty in a suit and tie and something fun underneath. Ben plies him with booze until his cheeks flush pink and he gives Ben those round doe eyes that says he’s a handful of seconds away from dropping to his knees, sucking Ben’s cock right here in front of everyone. 

Ben puts a hand on Armie’s quivering thigh and whispers, “Doing so good for me, baby.”

He turns his head so Armie can whisper back, “I can’t hold it until we get home, Daddy.”

“That’s why we came prepared.”

They’ve eaten already. The drunk dancing has started up. Ben still has to make his rounds, shake hands, trade cards,  _ we’ll touch base again soon.  _ The passion people have for commercial real estate astounds him. They all look like they’re actually having fun. 

Ben taps Armie’s glass impatiently. He’s grateful their table fellows have disbanded. “Finish up, sweetheart.”

Armie lifts the glass and downs the rest of the wine in one long pull. Ben watches his adam’s apple bob with finality. He likes his baby a little loose, sloppy. Not so drunk to go overboard but enough that the needy whining and begging is real. 

“All gone, Daddy,” Armie says.

Ben pushes a full water glass toward him. 

“I can’t.”

“You will.”

“Daddy, please, it’s so embarrassing.”

“You want a spanking? I’ll pull your pants down and bend you over my knee, right in front of all these people.”

With a huff, Armie chugs the water. Ben rubs his thigh, inches high enough that he feels it, the soft plastic crinkle under his pants. “Good boy.”

By the time Ben is done making his rounds an hour later, Armie is bouncing in his seat, blushed pink all the way up to his ears. A tall blonde woman has taken up the seat beside him, somebody’s wife, and speaks to him animatedly about something Ben is sure he doesn’t care about. But he’s being polite, nodding along, laughing at all the right moments. Ben’s little diplomat. God, he loves his baby boy.

When Ben sits down, the blonde woman gets pulled away by her husband, and tells Armie it was lovely meeting him. They’re alone at the table again, and Armie hisses, “Can we please go now?”

Ben made him drink three glasses of water along with his three glasses of wine. “You can go whenever you want.”

Armie’s mouth falls open. They’ve done this before but only teased it, never gone all the way. “Here? In front of everyone? At the  _ Crimson Dawn Gala?” _

In answer, Ben glances around, puts his hand between Armie’s legs, squeezes the soft filling of his diaper. “Go ahead.”

He watches Armie’s pretty grey eyes dart around. Then he closes them, makes a pinched face of concentration. After a few seconds, Ben feels warmth spreading under his palm, the diaper expanding as it absorbs. Armie is shaking, looks like he might cry from embarrassment. He goes and goes, breathing heavily, until Ben is sure the diaper can’t hold anymore. Armie lets out a soft moan in an exhale; Ben knows he’s done when he feels Armie’s cock start to harden in the diaper, pressed against his own mess. Ben is already throbbing, has to adjust himself into his pant leg. 

“That was beautiful, baby,” Ben says. “What a good boy.”

The drive home is a long one, nearly two hours. An hour or so in, Armie starts dancing in his seat. “I have to go again, Daddy.”

“Go ahead.”

“But it’s — I’m full. It’ll go everywhere.”

Ben stays silent, waits him out. Ten minutes later, Armie is panting, writhing, says, “I can’t hold it anymore.” He unbuckles his belt and pulls his pants down. Ben glances over. The diaper is so full it’s nearly bursting, the crotch stained. He puts his hand on it again, rubs soothingly, and this time when Armie lets go, it leaks out the side, down his thighs, makes a big puddle between his legs. He moans in relief. Ben isn’t worried about the seats; they’re leather. He pulls at the sticky tab at Armie’s hip. Armie gets the other one, pushes the front of the diaper down. His little cock is so hard. Ben puts his hand around it, tugs it roughly in his fist. It’s wet with piss and precome.

“Gonna come for me, baby?” Ben asks. “Come all over the mess you just made.”

“Daddy,” Armie says, begging for something he can’t articulate, something only Ben can give him. He clutches Ben’s arm, fucks his hips up into Ben’s fist. They might as well get the first one out of the way. “I’m gonna, I’m —” His cock pulses in Ben’s hand; his load is little, barely soaks Ben’s fingers. He whimpers when he comes. 

Ben steers with his knees. With his clean hand, he unzips his fly and pulls his own cock out, slicks himself up with Armie’s come. 

“Look how hard I am for you, baby. Look what you do to me.”

Without needing to be asked, Armie contorts himself over the center console and sucks Ben’s wet cock into his mouth. Ben threads his dirty hand in Armie’s hair, grips it, pushes him down until he nearly gags. 

“Good boy, know just what Daddy wants. You want to swallow my come, want me to fill your mouth up?”

Armie gives a little nod. Ben imagines the mess in the passenger seat, piss and come all over the place, all over Armie’s expensive suit. He always comes so quickly whenever he stuffs his baby’s mouth. A tug on Armie’s hair is his only warning before he stills Armie’s head and comes as far down his throat as he can manage. “Fuck, baby, so good for me, sweetheart, take it just like that.”

Armie swallows the load, lifts off with a big white dollop trailing out of his mouth and down his chin, which he swipes up with a finger and sucks into his mouth. “Did I do good, Daddy?”

“Yes you did, baby, so good.”

At home, Ben takes off Armie’s clothes and lays him out on the bed, tucks a fresh diaper under his hips and secures it at the sides, taps his sweet little cock when he’s done. He helps Armie into his favorite fuzzy pajamas, the ones with the blue spaceships, and says, “Come on, let’s have some play time.”

“Daddy I don’t want to walk,” Armie says, pouting.

Ben leans down over him and Armie ropes his arms around Ben’s neck, his legs around Ben’s waist. Ben picks him up and carries him into the play room. Armie picks a coloring book tonight, some crayons, takes a blue binky and sucks it into his mouth. Ben settles in with a football game and waits for Armie to slip into little space so they can get started. Ben never knows how far his baby will go; sometimes he gets nonverbal, can only laugh and cry. Sometimes he can make out phrases here and there. Sometimes he just falls asleep. 

An hour later, Armie’s crayon pauses its path of movement, and he lets out a little gasp, binky nearly slipping from his lips.

“You wet yourself again, baby?” 

Armie’s chin trembles and tears brim up in his eyes. He nods. Ben loves it, when his baby gets so far into his own head he just lets himself go. 

“That’s okay, baby, we’ll get you cleaned up again.” 

He prepares a bubble bath, takes off Armie’s pajamas until he’s naked except for his diaper, and Ben admires him, six feet of pale, freckled skin, so small and thin, his baby. His baby boy. He cups Armie’s warm diaper in his hand and squeezes it, feels its fullness before taking the diaper off and helping Armie into the tub.

He washes Armie’s body with a soapy wet cloth while Armie busies himself with a little blue boat. He gets to Armie’s cock and rubs it with the cloth, soft and small, until it starts to stir to life. Armie makes little puffing noises of pleasure; his chest turns pink, and he drops the boat, leans back and closes his eyes.

Ben slips down further, behind his balls, and presses at his entrance. Slides a soapy finger into his ass. 

“You like this, baby? Want my cock in you yet?”

Armie nods, can’t speak with the binky still in his mouth. Ben crooks his finger up and Armie gasps through his nose. Normally Ben would tease him a bit longer, but he can’t wait anymore, can’t wait to sink his cock into his baby boy and fill him up.

He helps Armie out of the tub, towels him dry and takes the opportunity to tickle him. Armie giggles and bats his hands away. Ben kisses his forehead, his cheek, his ear, which earns him another giggle. He takes Armie into the bedroom and lays him back down on the bed, presses his nose into the sweet clean space between his neck and shoulder, soft skin, floral soap. Armie shrugs his shoulders up.

“That tickle too?” Ben asks.

Armie nods.

Ben pulls the lube out of the bedside table, squeezes some out onto his fingers. Armie is splayed open for him, holding his knees to his chest like a good boy who knows what Daddy wants. Ben slicks him up, slides a finger in. Armie moans. He pushes in a second, and a third, not too much, knows his baby likes it when it hurts a little. 

He stays dressed in his dress shirt and tie and pants, his sleeves rolled up. He tosses his tie over his shoulder, unbuckles his pants, pulls out his cock. It’s heavy and hard in his hand.

“Please, Daddy,” Armie says, voice a high whine.

“Sure, baby, don’t worry, Daddy will take care of you.”

He presses the head of his cock against Armie’s hole, flexes his hips and pushes in. Armie cries out. 

“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, we’ll take it slow.” Ben pushes in another inch, and another, until he’s fully seated in his baby boy’s hole.

“Good job, baby, god look at you, taking your Daddy’s whole cock so easy.”

Armie is panting underneath him, face contorted in pain or pleasure, Ben’s not sure. Ben pulls out and pushes back in, hard, so that Armie skips up the bed a few inches. He already came once tonight, so he can go for as long as it takes for his baby to come untouched, all over himself.

He bends Armie in half, fucks into him hard and fast, until Armie is crying and whimpering underneath him. His binky slips out of his mouth and rolls onto the bed. 

“Daddy, Daddy,” he babbles, not saying anything, just pleading for more and harder and faster, so Ben delivers, because he gives his baby everything he wants.

“That’s right, sweetheart, so good for me, so tight.”

Armie’s cock is so hard it’s red, come pulsing out the tip and making a little puddle on his stomach. Ben switches his angle and Armie shouts, moans, breathing grown rapid. He chokes on a breath and comes, surges of white coating his stomach and neck and chest. 

“Oh baby, oh sweetheart, god, look at you, coming undone for Daddy.” Ben pounds into him harder, until the headboard slams against the wall and threatens to crack the plaster. He doesn’t care. He’s so close to coming he can feel it in his teeth.

Armie fumbles with his cock and milks out the rest of his come. Slides a thumb into it and sucks it into his mouth, keeps it there, like he does when he sleeps. Ben stills, grips Armie’s hips into his hands and comes so hard he nearly collapses. He rests his head on Armie’s chest and takes a few breaths, enjoys the soft warmth of his baby’s asshole. 

He pulls out and rolls Armie onto his stomach. Armie settles in, his head to the side with his thumb tucked into his mouth, eyes closed like he’s ready for sleep. Ben parts his cheeks and watches his asshole flutter, watches the come dribble back out of him, down his balls, his thighs.

Ben pushes his tongue into Armie’s ass and eats all his own come out. Armie is panting and writhing, over-sensitive, unable to speak, just make alarmed noises, as he twitches his hips into the mattress, into his own mess. He tastes so sweet and clean. Ben pulls off and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, taps Armie’s hip to let him know he’s done. Armie rolls onto his side, spent. Ben curls around his back, kisses the nape of his neck, holds him close.

“What do you want now, baby?”

He expects Armie to say sleep time, or ask him to read a story. Instead he pulls his thumb out of his mouth with a soft pop and says, “Ice cream.”

“Ice cream? It’s past your bed time.”

“Ice cream,” he says, more sternly.

Ben laughs. “Okay. Ice cream.”  
  



End file.
